National Poetry Month April 8, 2020
The Black Draft
~in memoriam Grammy; age 66
At Birch Lake
the black painted turtles
have hauled themselves again
from the primordial muck;
they use their foreclaws
to hoist their shelled selves up
that fell to shore
fifteen years ago.
It's weird, my daughter says.
Yes, I agree, it's wyrd.
There are forty-eight trillion,
six hundred and ninety-five billion,
nine hundred and ninety-nine
thousand and sixty-two things
in my daughter's life.
And one of them has changed.
The potation has poured itself out.
It can not be put back into the bottle.
Cattail fluff floats by,
and bloated ovum.
This poem will be published in my debut collection, At Home with Disquiet, due out in Spring 2020 with Circling Rivers. http://circlingrivers.com/
1. What inspired you to write this poem?
When my children were teenagers their grandmother died. To this day it seems impossible that she is not out there somewhere crossing her legs and sitting on the floor, as she often did.
2. What do you like about this poem?
The quietness of it. The last lines hurt me. It is remarkable that any of us takes hold for any duration.
3. What would you change about this poem?
Only the fact that it was written at Carol’s passing at such a young age.
4. Where, when, and how often do you write?
Every. Single. Day. Anywhere that I happen to be.
5. What poetry books are you reading right now?
Brian Brett’s Poems, New and Selected, Don McKay’s Angular Uncomformity and Bin Ramke’s Theory of Mind: New and Selected Poems.